Run #1089 - A Moving Tribute To Free-Range Haggis

January 27, 2003

Hares: On-In, Sumpyton
Where: Firewater (no-smoking bar!), 1006 - 11th Avenue SW
Attendence: 71

Here we are at Friday already and I haven't sent any scribbles to anyone. Time to get started.

For a Rubby Buns run, the first shock to the system was not having any whiskey in the circle. We have some traditions you know and expect to be treated in the manner to which we have become accustomed (The hare, having been around this rabble from day one, seems quite remiss in this matter). On top of that, the evening was fast approaching the temperature one would expect for late January, not the balmy night we were expecting. Shock to the system #2: no whiskey to warm our frosty little toes. But enough rueing the lack of highland nectar, there's a run to write up.

The circle as usual was made up of a large number of hashers, some variously dressed as some type of pseudoscot. There were those bedecked in kilts of varying style, others in bits of tartan, and a few more redheads than would be the norm. Hardly any announcements were made, some new boots and archives introduced, and then we were sent out into the night to make what we could of it.

The trail was marked way up high on light poles in teeny tiny little R's, probably to conserve chalk. Once the probable location of these were identified the resulting trail marked a very pleasant run, not too long, not too short, but just right; hills for some, shortcuts for others.

At one point your scribe was lucky enough to be following Always (with wings) at the exact moment he found a little itty bitty head lying abandoned at the side of the road. Tossed it into the air he did, whereupon Wetone, following behind, nicely snagged it and quickly tucked it away somewhere. This doesn't have anything to do with anything except that if she is going to continually campaign for your faithful scribe to get the next hash shit, it might as well be for making suggestive remarks as to where she prefers - oh, I digress.

Everyone was eager to return to the snugly Firewater and the night's festivities. Here, the RA's were seen to be donning some sort of Scottish clown clothing and red noses would have gone quite nicely with their ensemble. Shag's sheep (!?) was also making the rounds prior to the official festivities. A choir was assembled consisting of The Bawdy, Dreary, Pole MacVault and Right Bun.

Down downs began with a very long version of some song, now forgotten, to celebrate something, I can't remember what but I think it had something to do with the fashion sense of the common hasher. Next, in the milestones department, Xena and Burning Bush were recognised for their 100^th runs. Lay 'Em In Snow handed off the Hash Shit to the aptly named Randy Bastard, who according to my notes "came back, went again, and stayed on" - ride 'em cowboy.

New boots Mark and Kirsten and visitor/archive Tootsie Roll were recognised for their presence, and Mark also received a handsome reward for parking in a tow away zone; there's real hasher potential there.

Then the rest of the evening was placed in the hands of On In and Sumpyton who very ably orchestrated a moving tribute to the free-range haggis. This rite was made complete by the presence of piper Roy, and Mucky Dip's impromptu performance of 'Hasher on a Hot Tin Roof' - you go girl! At last, time to eat. Thank you MacHares for another memorable Rubby Buns.